


In The Night A Kiss Will Give You Life

by rubygirl29



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Community: sga_smooch, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-24
Updated: 2012-02-24
Packaged: 2017-10-31 15:58:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/345912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rubygirl29/pseuds/rubygirl29
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Even after all he had been through with the Wraith, he still held his P-90 with his finger poised over the trigger.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In The Night A Kiss Will Give You Life

Even after all he had been through with the Wraith, he still held his P-90 with his finger poised over the trigger. It had been unnecessary. The Wraith had looked up at the Darts overhead and had nodded, not so much a 'thank you' as an acknowledgment that Sheppard had kept his promise. Still, he let out the breath he had been holding in a deep sigh when he returned to the jumper. 

Ronon grabbed his arm and turned Sheppard to face him. "What?" John asked tiredly. "I gave my word."

"You gave your word to a _Wraith_ ," Ronon spat. "It'll come back to haunt you."

"You know what? Right now, I don't care. I just want to get out of here before the Wraith start wondering who's activating the gate." He tapped Markham on the shoulder. "Take us home."

"Sir?" Markham sounded uncertain, as if he didn't have the right to usurp John's position as pilot. John nodded at him and Markham didn't hesitate this time. Getting off the planet was a priority. 

"You don't want to fly?" Ronon asked, surprised and vaguely worried by John's orders. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. I just want to sit and close my eyes for the 10.5 seconds it will take us to get home." He made a wry face at Ronon. "Then a beer and a movie." He flopped down next to Ronon, slouched and closed his eyes for exactly ten seconds. Then they were home.

^*^*^*^*^*^*^

John, despite having been examined by Carson on the jumper, was ordered to report to the infirmary for more tests, which he found wearying. "I'm fine," he insisted after Carson drew _another_ vial of blood. "Good as new ... Better. You said so yourself."

"It never hurts to be sure, Colonel," Carson said as he taped up John's arm. "I suggest you take it easy for a day or so until I get all the tests finished."

"I'm not going to turn into a bug, right?"

"No, Colonel. You will not turn into a bug." Carson patted his shoulder. "I'm finished. If you feel ill, or not quite right, come immediately to the infirmary." 

John flexed his arm, testing the bandage. "I'm fine," he repeated. "Thanks, doc." He slid off the examination table as his radio crackled to life. 

"Colonel, are you up to making a report tonight?" Elizabeth's concern softened her voice. 

John thought for a few seconds. "Can it wait until morning?"

"Are you all right?"

"According to Carson, I am. I just -- I just need some time to put things in order, that's all."

"Of course. Goodnight, John. It's good to have you safely home."

"Good to be home," John agreed. "I'll be in my quarters."

He knew people were looking at him as he made his way through the hall; checking him out to see if he was the man he had been when he left. Wondering if he was all right or if the Wraith had done a number on his body and mind. John had looked at his chest, but aside from a faint red scar, he was unmarked. He wondered if the Wraith had done that on purpose to remind him of their bargain. He supposed it didn't matter. Mentally, he felt worn out. 

He waved his hand in front of the control panel and it slid open, the lights coming up from dim to brightness. John lowered them again. His eyes hurt. He was tired. Tired, but still restless and wary of sleep. He looked around his room. It was exactly as he had left it two days ago, right down to the clothes scattered on the floor. He kicked them over to a pile in the corner and dropped on the bed, burying his face in his pillow. If his head would just stop throbbing ... 

He was vaguely aware that his door chimed and slid open. "If the world isn't ending, go away," he groaned. 

"You okay?" Ronon asked and John pushed himself upright.

"For the tenth time, yes. I'm fine."

"I brought you some dinner. Soup and fresh bread."

"Fresh?" John perked up. 

"I leaned on the cook and he caved. I know he bakes at night."

"Great. The next time I go down there, I'll get shit on a shingle."

"What?"

"Dried chipped beef on toast. Stale toast, salty beef, floury gravy. Been on the menu for the armed services since my grandfather's day. He called it S.O.S."

Ronon set the tray on his nightstand and sat on the bed. He was staring intently at John. "What now?" John asked, slightly annoyed, but also touched by Ronon's concern. 

Ronon seemed unsure, serious. He stared at John's shirt as if he could see through it. "Did he ... Do you have scars ... like mine?"

"Scars? No. Just a red mark." John pulled up his shirt. "See?"

Ronon placed his hand over the mark. His palm was warm, burning against the mark. John leaned in slightly, craving the touch on his skin. "I think it will fade," Ronon said quietly. "Not like mine."

"No."

"Good." Ronon's didn't take his hand away. "I was ready to kill. I wanted to kill him."

"For a Wraith, he wasn't all bad. He didn't have to give me my life back, but he did."

"He knew if we found you, we'd kill him."

"It wasn't like that. He knew there was no guarantee that you wouldn't anyway. Remind me to dig out my copy of _The Defiant Ones._ It's over. I'm fine. Nothing else matters."

Ronon looked briefly angry. "It matters," he said harshly. 

John put his hand on Ronon's wrist to pull away, but he didn't. Instead he looked into Ronon's eyes, saw the flecks of green and gold in his pupils, the gold-dust tips of his eyelashes, the serious curve of his mouth. 

Ronon slid an arm around John's shoulders and pulled him back against the pillows and his body. John didn't resist. He was grateful for the warmth of Ronon's muscles, the solidity of his shoulder. "It was bad," he said, and knew that Ronon understood. "I didn't think it would hurt so much. And then I was surprised when ... when he gave my life back that it felt so good."

"That's how they make Wraith worshippers. They take them to the edge and bring them back over and over until they need the enzyme to survive. It's a drug," he said bluntly. 

"Did they do that to you?"

"I was more valuable as a Runner. I don't know why."

"Maybe you just tasted bad," John joked. 

Ronon's chest shook with laughter. "Yeah, tough and bitter." 

"Not so tough," John teased. 

"Bitter?"

"I don't know," John's heart was suddenly thudding in his chest. This was wrong on so many levels, but so right in all that mattered. He tilted his head up and met Ronon's eyes, "But I'd like to."

Ronon smiled. His expression went from fierce to amused, to tender wanting. He nodded, bent his head to John's. Their lips met. A brush of hesitation, a gentle pressure that firmed, a slow-growing heat as the kiss deepened, as Ronon's tongue traced the line of John's mouth and as John's lips parted. Shared breath, shared life. 

It was over too quickly. John opened his eyes; his fingers were fisted in Ronon's shirt, and Ronon's hand had slid from John's chest to rest on the skin above his hip. They looked at each other. John grinned first, then watched Ronon smile in turn. 

"Not bitter. Sweet." He watched Ronon blush. "It's good to be home," John sighed.

"Good to have you back," Ronon replied. "You want me to leave so you can sleep?"

"I want you to _stay_ so I can sleep," John replied honestly. He didn't want to be alone; not yet, not in the dark. 

"Okay."

John sat up and reached for his tray. "I'm hungry. Want to watch a movie?"

"No _Star Wars_ ," Ronon warned. "Got something with horses?"

" _Magnificent Seven_?" John pitched the case over to Ronon. He put the DVD into the player and leaned back on the pillows, watching the movie, but glancing over at John periodically. When John finished eating, he settled into the curve of Ronon's body. 

Ronon's hand was warm and heavy on the crown of John's shoulder. His chest rose and fell in a soothing rhythm, his breath brushed John's hair and cheek. He tugged at Ronon's dreads, bringing him closer. Ronon smiled and kissed him again, giving John his life back more surely than the Wraith had. John closed his eyes and the day left him. 

**The End**


End file.
